


A Helping Hand

by CaptMickey



Category: Monkey Island
Genre: Gen, Hook Hand Patch Up, mention of a stump arm, tired sick pirate man needs to go to bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-17
Updated: 2018-08-17
Packaged: 2019-06-28 13:54:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15708567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptMickey/pseuds/CaptMickey
Summary: It was amazing how he only knew the man for a little bit less then a few days and yet was willing to follow him on this quest.





	A Helping Hand

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place a little bit after Siege of Spinner Cay

The Screaming Narwhal sailed far from the post-sieged Spinner Cay, following the trail of three mythical sea creatures after a supposed mythical sea sponge... if Winslow didn't know any better, he would assume that this was all a mythical goose chase. Still, after spending so long land-locked on Flotsam Island, the now first mate couldn't exactly complain too much, it at all.

"Ow..." A tired voice moaned.

He looked over the steering wheel to the deck of the ship, where the lanky blond Captain leaned over the railing looking over at the gleaming metal hook with a far off gaze, a small cut on his cheek from where he imagined he tried scratching himself but used the hook hand by accident... again.

It was amazing how he only knew the man for a little bit less then a few days and yet was willing to follow him on this quest. He thought it might have been the beard (and, to an extent, it sort of was) that was the telltale sign of Guybrush's capabilities, but witnessing him take down McGilliguty to save the mer-leader and even going toe to toe with the fearsome Morgan LeFlay. There were other things, sure, but those two in particular stood out in that moment. 

Still, something about the Captain was throwing Winslow off. Ever since they sailed off from the port of Spinner Cay, Guybrush fell reserved and quiet. A complete one eighty from how loud and almost boisterous he was when he first met him on Flotsam and taking out the other pirates using nothing but his wit. He tied a rope to the steering wheel, just something to hold the ship in place as it followed the sea creatures, and walked down the stairs to Guybrush. 

Winslow didn't need someone to explain what was wrong, it was written all over the blond's face. 

His head lowered, Guybrush's breathing was raspy and slightly labored, his skin looking oddly paler than usual making the bags under his blue eyes more prominent. He had a look that expressed exhaustion and pain. Guybrush held his wrist where his left hand used to be (something that Winslow kicked himself for not being able to prevent). 

If Winslow didn't know any better, Guybrush wasn't even aware that the first mate was right next to him... he supposed Ms. LeFlay was right after all about him being unobservant. 

"Sir?"

"Gah!" Guybrush jumped, a right hand gripping his chest as his hook impaled the wooden railing. He tugged a bit at the hook to let go and just as quickly positioned himself to look casual on the railing... as if intending to do so. "M-Mr. Winslow. Hi, yes. What's up? Everything alright?"

"Yes yes... of course. Considering we have nothing to go by except the beasties, I would say that everything is quite eh... alright." Winslow couldn't help but stare at the hook and then back to the ill-looking pirate. "I couldn't help but notice that you seem to be a bit under the weather."

"What? No, pffft. I'm just... well. I'm just a little tired is all. Didn't exactly get much rest between Flotsam and Spinner Cay, y'know?" Guybrush smiled. "Saving mer-folks, fighting bounty hunters who happened to cut a hand off and stopping sieges tends to drain a pirate."

"I suppose." Winslow said, sounding unconvinced. "Still, I think it would be best if you went and rest a spell for a bit, it's not like we'll be reaching land of any kind any time soon."

"N-no no... no need. B-besides, it gets stuffy in my room."

"You could open a window, Sir."

Guybrush blushed in embarrassment. "Yeah. Buuuut I think being outside in the open air is good for me..."

He noticed Guybrush sweating a little as his lips pursed tightly. "Speaking of which, how's your wrist?"

"My what?"

Winslow pointed at the wrist in question. "That. How's your hook hand?"

"Oh, um... hook-y?" Guybrush looked at it closely, rotating it to inspect any damages. "A few knicks from the sword fights, but otherwise still pristine."

"Hmm... Sir, if I may?" Winslow extended his hand out.

"I... W-Winslow, I'm married, remember?" Guybrush blushed, coughing just a little and trying to cover his mouth.

"Wh-- oh! Good Heavens, no, that's not what I meant." The first mate chuckled, "No, I'm referring to your hand. Or ah... lack thereof. As well as... please just take a seat, sir."

He could see Guybrush was ready to protest, ready to brush him off... but instead he surprised him by nodding and following the first mate and taking a seat on the stair case. 

"I'll be back in just a moment." Winslow said, quickly rushing off to the quarters while leaving Guybrush alone. He shortly returned with a make-shift first aid kit, spotting the Captain with his head resting against the wall and snoring. Winslow placed a hand on the Captain's forehead and frowned a little; it was a fever, easily. But he had work to do, he could lecture the blond to go to bed afterwards. Placing it down, he grabbed a rag and wiped Guybrush's face, seeing him stir awake from the touch. 

"Nngh... Elaine?" Guybrush mumbled.

Elaine... that was the Captain's wife. And from the sight at the pier, was beyond loyal to her. "Unfortunately, it's just me, Captain." Winslow spoke as he kept cleaning up Guybrush's face. "But this... Elaine you speak of, that's the lovely lass back on Spinner Cay, yes?"

He watched as the exhausted pale face give a small warm smile. "Mm-hmm... she's my wife..." Guybrush spoke fondly if not with a slight slur. "Goddess of the Sea... nnngh..." He winced at the touch. "And then I go and lose the ring..."

"She is a beauty." Winslow agreed. Satisfied with cleaning up the small cut, he gently held Guybrush's left arm pushed his sleeve up so he could see the hook and stump. It... was unpleasant. It wasn't as absurdly pale as the rest of Guybrush's complexion, but instead from the stump to what felt like further up (probably his elbow if he were to guess) was a sickening green skin. It looked eerily like McGillicuty's skin. If he remember right, it was referred to as the Pox of LeChuck. "Besides, it wasn't like you intended to lose your left hand."

"Still..."

"Hmm. How long have you two been married?" Winslow asked, trying to both focus on something else as well as learn more about his new Captain.

"Ten years... a little more then that..." Guybrush winced as Winslow was taking off the hook. "Feels like it's been yesterday." 

"You mean it felt like it was only yesterday?"

"That too..."

Winslow just chuckled and shook his head. 

"What about you?" Guybrush moved his head so it was no longer leaning on the wall. "Do you have anyone special?"

"Hmm? Oh... no, I'm afraid. I have been around the lake, so to speak... but I haven't exactly found someone in that sense." Winslow answered, cleaning the stump after neglecting to do a proper clean after the initial encounter with Ms. LeFlay. He also went out of his way to clean the hook's base. "But who knows, perhaps I will find someone as dear to me as Mrs. Threepwood is to you." 

"You'll find someone... Aneomoply sounded like they liked you..." Guybrush slurred a little. "Asked about a cousin."

"T-they did?" Winslow stopped and looked at the half-lidded Guybrush. "Ah... I'll finish cleaning up in a moment, Sir. I just want to be thorough."

Guybrush nodded and leaned his head back against the wall, his breathing sounding heavy. 

"Sir?"

"Mm-hmm?"

"How long have you been feeling ill?"

"Mm not ill..." Guybrush slurred.

Winslow just stared.

"Hmm... since the Rock of Gelato... the first time around." The blond took a breath. 

"What... what did happen there? Before you washed up on Flotsam." Winslow then asked, satisfied with the clean stump and bandaging it properly. "I never heard the story, plus I think it would help me understand this quest better." There was a moment of quiet, and for a moment, Winslow was worried that Guybrush had finally passed out on the staircase, but instead he looked and saw Guybrush frowning at the idea and blinked. "...Sir?"

"I was on another quest to stop LeChuck from doing some voodoo ritual off the coast of the Rock of Gelato, and I had to gather all these... these obscure items based on a list the Voodoo Lady gave me to make the Cursed Cutlass of Kafluu-- oh. The Voodoo Lady is um... the creepy shack in the Flotsam forest? Deep Gut or whatever? That's her."

"Ah."

"Yeah, so, as I was about to douse the cutlass with some voodoo root beer, LeChuck rammed my ship and caused me to drop the bottle so I... I had to improvise and... and it went south. Caused the Pox and..." Guybrush gestured at the stump that Winslow was finishing bandaging. "So now I'm on another to quest to find La Esponja Grande to stop the pox and cure the pirates and you know the rest of the story." He paused and looked at Winslow. "Why... did you wait for me? During the Siege? You could have easily sailed off."

Winslow finished bandaging and proceeded to clean the hook, shrugging at the question. "I enjoy sailing with you."

"Huh?"

"I meant what I said back when you freed the Mer-folk, that I knew you'd make a good Captain. From shifting the winds, besting Ms. LeFlay and... heh... outwitting me. I would be a fool to leave and have you as a potential foe. Best to be at your side then against. Besides, someone needs to keep an eye on you." Winslow gestured at Guybrush's hand, the Captain just followed Winslow's line of sight and gave a small chuckle.

"You're a good guy, Winslow." Guybrush complimented. "First crew mate to tell me up front they won't mutiny me... wouldn't believe how many times that has happened to me already..."

"Well, rest assure, I'm not like that." The portly first mate laughed and placed the hook back on gently, trying to not hurt his captain. 

"You're good with first aid too..." Guybrush mumbled.

"Years of practice, Captain." Winslow patted Guybrush's thigh. "But that's a story for another day. Go and get some rest... that fever isn't going to go away by staying up."

"Hmm..." Guybrush closed his eyes. "...Okay."

Satisfied, Winslow moved back watching Guybrush attempt to stand up. It was like watching a drunken albatross attempting to walk but soon the Captain found his bearings and made his way to his quarters. Once the door was closed, Winslow made his way back upstairs and to the wheel, making sure to undo the rope holding it in place. 

It wasn't until a good solid ten minutes later that he heard the door open again and some foot steps. He didn't even have time to lean his head over as Guybrush soon walked upstairs with a pillow under his arm, sitting behind Winslow and placed the on the railing and quickly falling asleep.

Reginald Van Winslow smiled warmly and grabbed a tarp to use as a makeshift blanket for Guybrush. 

He figured his Captain needed all the rest he could get. 


End file.
